Author's Note: listen to the epic "Salva Nos" live concert version here for this next scene. It would make good for some Noir battle finale, but I couldn't resist to use it now: watch?v=vT2WiD46lfw

Chapter 7

Adapt

The trail back to Etxarren seemed endless. Audriane had been running hard and wheezing so much that she slowed to a trot. For some reason, she thought Noir would have been dead by now, and almost gave up on it. But she still heard gunshots. After long lapses of trotting, she broke back into running, making a mental note to preserve her energy if things led to fighting.

Then came the hard part—the descent into the lake. Into the trees. Back down that dirt trail, pass the bucket they dropped. Heart racing, she couldn't believe she hadn't run into anyone yet. The gunfire never ceased, ringing throughout the lake.

When she neared the stone house, she was thrown off guard when something big and black charged toward her. The horse. She was about to dive out of the way when a hand struck out from behind its flying mane.

"HOP ON!" shouted Mireille.

Without a moment's hesitation, Audriane turned around and ran along the horse. Her heart leaped when she thought the horse was going to trample her, or that her hand was going to miss, or that she was going to trip. But Mireille caught her hand, her grip stronger than Audriane anticipated.

"Jump up!" ordered Mireille. At the same time, Kirika, sitting at the rear, leaned out to assist. It was awkward for her to slump Audriane over her lap, but they managed.

In Audriane's blind attempt to sit up, she heard shouts. It was horrifying trying to situate herself between Kirika and Mireille, the ride more frightening than the noisy chaos.

Bullets flew everywhere. Any second, she'd be dead—she expected to be dead.

Kirika helped Audriane sit up, just as the horse nearly reared up on its hind legs. Mireille slapped the reins violently, crying out, "Hyah!" Her toes pinched or tapped at the horse's sides, making it pick up the gallop. It wasn't enough. Mireille obviously hadn't ridden before. There was a lot of jolting, forward and back, of Audriane slamming unexpectedly into Mireille in front of her. It was worse than a rollercoaster, not being strapped in safely. With this, and the amount of bullets flying around them, Audriane still couldn't believe they weren't dead yet. It was hard to sense their location in the midst of fire, where the Etxarren was, where the trail was . . .

BANG! Audriane almost fell off in fright. Another blast went off. It was Kirika behind her.

"Hold on to me tight—don't look back!" roared Mireille, just as Audriane tried to look over her shoulders to watch Kirika shoot.

"Kirika!" shouted Mireille, as if to signal.

The horse skidded to a deadly halt that nearly broke Audriane's jaw as she smashed forward into Mireille's elbow. Just as they'd stopped, Kirika jumped and grabbed the ledge of a window, then struggled to reach the window above it, the one with the protruding board—and from there, to the roof. Before Audriane could register what she'd done, there were the cries of men falling to Kirika's bullets, who ran along the roof.

A bullet missed Mireille. Both she and Audriane gawked at the window above them, which had opened. There was movement inside. The enemy.

"We just got here!" roared Mireille, steering them away from the window.

Three Knights ran out of the barn, firing at them. Roaring, Mireille charged the horse right at them. But before she even got to them, Kirika leaped off the boulder behind the Etxarren and landed on the horse, between both girls. She struck out both arms, two guns in hand. Two of their enemies from the barn dove to the side to dodge—but Kirika's outstretched arms uppercut both of them in the jaw. Their bodies nearly flipped over, flying past the horse.

The last Knight retreated back into the barn, but as the horse galloped by, Kirika shot him.

"Dupont!" yelled Mireille. "Lesson number one: roll! Then find cover and take them down while we distract them—GOT THAT—?"

"No—!"

"Good, jump!"

Audriane didn't have to on her own: the horse conveniently bucked in the air when more Knights ran in front of them—throwing her right off.

They say that in life-or-death experiences, things slow down. Well, they didn't. The ground came to meet her; her hands reached out on reflex; she straightened those arms and tucked her head out of fright. Audriane found herself rolling and rolling without wanting to, then, bouncing in all directions like an uncontrollable log. She immediately felt a stab in her back, a cringe in her neck, the raw skinning of her flesh, and the final punch to her stomach as her body thudded against a rock, as she rolled to a brutal stop.

She would have stayed there to vomit, but the sound of bullets was like reacting to the school bell for lunch. She scrambled to her feet and ran.

But Audriane froze where she stood. What she saw wiped away any peace she felt with Riki when they admired the mountains. Made her doubt such emotions could even exist in the same world in which she now stood.

Men, everywhere.

Stepping out from behind boulders, standing on top of them, all around her.

It was the ones with daggers that frightened her the most, the way they prowled toward her menacingly, slowly, with the tangible hunger in their eyes. Eyes that wanted to watch her writhe in pain.

They truly were walking nightmares invading her paradise. What terrifying contrasts to the beautiful green around them.

And those horrible, horrible white sneers.

Audriane was too mesmerized, too scared, to move.

There was an inhuman roar. Then, something hard cracked against the head of one the masked men. It sent a funny-looking vibration from his head to his toes, until he melted to his knees, and collapsed forward.

The thud snapped Audriane from her daze. She turned.

Riki stood there, about to throw another rock in her hand.

"Fire!" roared one of the Knights.

Fwip, fwip! Riki was suddenly a hopping idiot, yelping, high on her toes. Fear for her life washed through Audriane.

But it was enough of a distraction for the horse to run by, while Mireille and Kirika gunned down the enemy. Kirika used the horse's neck to swing around and kick down men, while Mireille fired down stragglers.

"Now take their guns!" ordered Mireille, wheeling the horse toward another group of Knights.

Even with the great distance between them, Audriane and Riki locked eyes. It was pint-sized reassurance to Audriane, as she started toward Riki, who took the last of her palm-sized rock to smash a crawling Knight in the back of his head. He went limp again, flat on his stomach. Riki stole his gun, but also figured it was smart to shuffle around his pants for a knife. When she found it, she looked at it, turning it on all sides.

"Hurry!" cried Audriane, panicking at the continuation of bullets and shouts. She turned around and saw men emerging from the surrounding rocks. She dove at Riki—who dropped the knife—bringing them both down to the ground at the sound of gunfire.

"Use your guns!" roared Mireille, shooting one way, Kirika in another.

Without thinking, Riki grabbed Audriane's hand and led her toward the woods in a blind run. Their hearts jolted at every gunshot, thinking it was meant for them—but each gunshot came along with a scream from each man. So they kept running, their adrenaline taking over to the point that they didn't realize they were already in the woods.

They squatted under big leaves and bushes, facing each other, watching each other's sweat trickle and collect under their chins. They stared into each other's eyes for so long, listening to the battlecries and the agonizing deaths, wishing Mireille and Kirika could take care of it all for them, to take it away.

Riki lifted the gun she held. So heavy, almost like a rock. Audriane watched her intensely, waiting for her to finally use it, despite the memories of the massacre. She wanted to say something, frustrated, but feared they'd be heard, even though it was loud all around them. Listening to the bangs, they just couldn't imagine what an actual war would be like.

Rustles.

Around them.

The students stared at each other, wide-eyed. For about a minute, they absorbed every detail of each other's face, as if it would be their last time looking at each other.

Crunch.

Audriane mouthed the words, Shoot. She glared at Riki, with horror. They screwed their eyes shut, faces scrunched up anxiously. They squeezed their eyes, their fists, their teeth. All they could hear in that silence, were the screams from the school.

Not again, not again, not again!

The snap of a twig.

A dangerous, new power seemed to channel through Riki's gun, up her arm, and into her very soul as she stood and aimed her gun.

But someone else shot first.

It had felt as though Riki's heart had been blown out of her chest so fast that she didn't have time to react. She felt cold, staring at the death hole in her face. She was paralyzed. Waiting for her heartbeat. Where was it?

"You would've been dead." It was Mireille, her gun at Riki, point-blank, eyes strict, as if waiting for a reaction.

Sweat beaded across Riki's brow. Cold sweat, but not as cold as Mireille's expression.

It was as if time froze. Audriane remained crouched, staring in disbelief, Riki and Mireille a foot apart with their guns aimed at each other. It was when Kirika walked along and put her hand on Mireille's gun, lowering it, that the world seemed to come back to life. They finally heard the ferns buzz with insects, and the birds, and the tinkling of the streams.

Kirika glared at Mireille, who remained transfixed on Riki.

"Why shoot?" shouted Audriane. "We came back to help!"

Mireille held the gun parallel to her own face. "Is that why you're here cowering in the brush?"

"And stay in the open and die?"

"Mireille," said Kirika sternly—the only one who Audriane noticed could knock some sense into the blonde.

"Where did you go?" blurted Mireille. "A simple drink with my breakfast would've been nice—."

"SOME DAMN PROTECTION!" Riki had finally found her voice as she felt the pounding in her ears lessen. "Asher promises us protection and we all nearly get killed—YOU promise us protection, and you decide to shoot at me?"

Mireille pressed the gun right into Riki's chest. "Yes," she snarled. "I think I will shoot at you. I thought you'd get used to it by now after everything you've been through."

"Who gets used to this?" roared Riki, stamping the ground with one foot, fists flailing wildly as if holding back from punching Mireille. "What child gets used to THIS?"

Mireille pressed the gun harder against Riki, making the girl step back. Even though Riki knew she wouldn't shoot, the weight of that gun filled her chest with a cold rush. It was different from the power she felt seconds ago holding her own gun. She began to shake violently, remembering the massacre.

Audriane shrieked, "Stop that!"

Kirika snapped, "Mireille, that's enough—."

"Get. Used. To. It," growled Mireille through gritted teeth. "People want to kill you. So we'll train you on how to react to that. You'll know how to disarm the enemy, even if they have you at point blank. Next time, you will use that gun."

No one looked at each other, each anchored to where she stood, to her own despair. A noose seemed to tighten itself around their hearts. Riki felt every fiber boil with rage as she glared at Mireille. Never had she felt so scared and angry altogether—that anger could make her this mentally exhausted, and unstable, that she felt like she would black out any moment.

After what felt like a lifetime, Kirika declared, "We have to get rid of the bodies."

Audriane gawked at her. "How you just say that?"

The silence was unbearable, until they heard something. Kirika turned and aimed her gun at a skinny tree.

A woman stood there.